


A Kiss for You; A Knife for You

by doggoneit



Series: The Odds Against Us [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blood, Crossdressing, Death, M/M, Undercover, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 18:06:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7372102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doggoneit/pseuds/doggoneit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukishima is a hitman whose next target is the infamous Sugawara Koushi.</p><p>It's an assignment like any other but his partner, Kuroo, can't help but think the worst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kiss for You; A Knife for You

Kuroo sat cross-legged on the hotel bed, hugging a pillow to his chest and frowning a thunderstorm on his face. The glare would send anyone scurrying to the nearest corner for safety but Tsukishima wasn’t just anyone. He ignored his partner’s moodiness as he peered into the vanity mirror and applied more mascara.

The bedsprings creaked.

Once his mascara was even on both sets of lashes, Tsukishima screwed the lid back on and picked up his favourite lipstick. It was a dark red colour, almost black, and accurately named Blood Rose. He slid the tip on the bow of his lip and coloured the left side, the right side and then the bottom before capping the tube and placing it next to the mascara.

More creaking.

“Is your temper tantrum supposed to change my mind?” Tsukishima kept his gaze on his reflection, taking a tissue and dabbing at the outer corner of his eye where his eyeliner had smudged. “It’s endearing, but not effective.”

It didn’t seem like an answer was forthcoming. Tsukishima stepped back from the mirror and cast a critical look over himself: floor-length dress, flawless make-up, floral perfume. All that was left was…

Tsukishima turned around to face Kuroo and held out his hand. “Give me my wig,” he said.

The wig sat both tousled and astray on Kuroo’s head, much like how his own hair did. Blond strands fell over his narrow eyes and down to his body but he didn’t move to brush them away. He didn’t move to give Tsukishima the wig either, just continued hugging the pillow and sulking away.

Tsukishima sighed. “You look ridiculous.”

Finally, Kuroo spoke. His voice was muffled through the pillow but his message got across all the same. “Why can’t I go with you?”

“You’ll blow my cover.”

“You’re dressing up as a two metre tall woman.”

“It’s the heels. They add to my already extensive height.”

“That’s not my point.”

“What’s your point then?”

“You look like a limp noodle.”

“I’ll cut _your_ limp noodle off.” Patience lost, Tsukishima yanked the wig from Kuroo’s head. He combed through the kinks and knots with his slender fingers and fitted it over his head, adjusting it till it sat straight and framed his cheekbones just so. He looked at his reflection in approval; his disguise was complete.

The bedsprings creaked once more. Kuroo’s thick arms slid around his waist and pulled him back into his chest, a warm and comforting embrace. Kuroo nuzzled into the crook of his neck and mumbled, “Sugawara’s known to intelligence agencies all over the world. I’m just worried. I want you to be safe.”

Tsukishima’s firm demeanour softened. Kuroo had been far more attached to him since this assignment began, as he had faced previously Sugawara firsthand and was intimately familiar with the dangers. Kuroo was far too caring for his own good. “I’ll be careful,” Tsukishima promised.

“That’s not the same thing.”

Tsukishima craned his neck, allowing Kuroo to brush his lips down the skin and pepper his bare shoulder with kisses. These gentle, affectionate gestures always reminded him that there was at least one person in this world who cherished him, and treated him like he was worth more than the number of kills to his name.

Kuroo’s hands stroked him through the dress. They wandered downwards, past his waist and through the slit of his dress; rough fingers inched in between his legs and began rubbing at his length, slowly at first and rapidly gaining speed.

Tsukishima gave a soft sigh and let his head fall back to enjoy the sensation of his cock starting to harden. He wanted more, wanted to continue this tryst and find his climax but it wasn’t the right time. He gave himself in to another moment of wanton pleasure and then, with great reluctance, swatted Kuroo’s hand away and stepped out of reach. “Stop, stop. You’re not messing up my dress five minutes before I have to go downstairs.”

“I could do it in three and then you’d have two to clean up,” Kuroo suggested hopefully.

“Oh, I know you can finish in three minutes.” Tsukishima snickered over Kuroo’s protests about his stunning virility and amazing stamina and loud chorus of _I’ll show you how long three minutes can be because time is a construct and we have all eternity_.

Tsukishima laughed, looped his arms around Kuroo’s neck and pressed their bodies close; their embrace warm, solid and steady much like Kuroo’s unwavering faith in them. After all these years, Tsukishima was still trying to understand the roots of Kuroo’s conviction.

“You looking like this will be the last thing Sugawara sees,” Kuroo said fondly, brushing his hands down Tsukishima’s arms. “He should count himself a lucky man.”

“How _do_ I look?”

Kuroo smiled, knowing this was a question asked out of habit instead of curiosity. It didn’t matter what Tsukishima wore because his answer never changed.

“Beautiful. Always beautiful.”

Kuroo cupped his hands around Tsukishima’s face and pulled him in for a kiss. Tsukishima leaned into it, resting his fingertips against Kuroo’s stomach, and traced a path around the curves of the abs he’d long memorised from mornings and nights spent together. Kuroo’s hand found his left, and brought it up to kiss the silver band on his fourth finger.

“This is it,” Kuroo murmured. “The last job.”

“Mm-hmm. How long have you been looking forward to this?”

“As long as I’ve known you.” Kuroo chuckled. “I knew from the moment you stepped foot into Nekoma that I wanted you to be mine.”

“Always the romantic.” Tsukishima nudged their noses together. “One last kiss before I go?”

Kuroo tilted his head forward and complied. Their mouths parted at the first touch and their tongues slid against each other, warm and wet. Tsukishima traced his way around Kuroo’s mouth, committing every part to memory so he’d always know where the sweetest words were formed.

“Mm.” Kuroo pulled back with a content hum. He thumbed across the swell of Tsukishima’s bottom lip and murmured. “I lov—”

Tsukishima drew the knife from his leg and drove it into Kuroo’s side. A twist of his wrist and the knife ripped the intercostal muscles apart.

Kuroo choked and reeled back, unsteady steps towards the bed. “Kei, what—”

Tsukishima flipped the knife in his hand and swung. Silver flashed against the tan of Kuroo’s throat and red spilled down his shirt like a bloodied waterfall. Kuroo sank to his knees, hands clutching his throat to staunch the flow but blood seeped through his fingers and stained the carpet.

Tsukishima stood firm and watched his partner bleed out, and pretended not to notice the questions in his dying eyes.

 

.

 

The hotel lobby was a wide, open space filled with patrons lazing around after an auspicious work day and enjoying drinks with pretty company. Their eyes followed him as he made his way past reception, but Tsukishima sought only the eyes of one particular man.

Sugawara was easily recognisable with his head of silver hair. He sat near the fireplace in a sharp, white suit and his surrounding followers provided a fine contrast in their sharp, black suits. Four of them, Tsukishima noted, not enough to cause suspicion but enough to cause trouble.

Tsukishima’s heels clacked against the marble floor and announced his entrance. He didn’t bother with greetings and sat in the opposite armchair with professional aplomb.

Sugawara looked up from his newspaper and gave a warm smile that belied his dangerous nature. Every part of the man, from his words all the way to his character, was carefully crafted to deceive even the most wary of criminals.

“Your disguise looks especially beautiful tonight.” Sugawara folded his newspaper and set it to the side. “I’m honoured to be in your illustrious presence and to be conducting business with you.”

“Then let’s get to it,” Tsukishima said, crossing one leg over another and revealing more skin as the slit of his dress parted. He didn’t miss the flicker of appreciation in Sugawara’s eyes.

“So down to business. I was hoping we’d have a few drinks first.”

“Only if you’re buying.”

“Of course.” Sugawara signalled to one of his men, who disappeared towards the bar. He relaxed into his armchair and gave an indulgent smile which warmed his honeyed eyes. “Do you remember what we spoke about when we last met?”

It had been several months ago, but Tsukishima still recalled their meeting in a ritzy lounge, and how they deliberated for hours what they wanted from each other over music and drinks. If anything, he had to admit Sugawara had great tastes. “We came to an agreement about Karasuno.”

“Yes.” Sugawara steepled his fingers in deep thought. “Karasuno has been laughed at around the world for far too long; it’s high time we take our name back and give it the recognition it deserves.”

“Your methods are effective,” Tsukishima said. “The name Karasuno is whispered even in the underground—an organisation comprised of specialised skills and deadly ambition. I daresay Karasuno has regained its reputation, if not worsened it in the best of ways.”

“We’ve definitely piqued the interest of many, both allies and enemies.” Sugawara gave an impish grin and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You, my dear, happen to be one of them and I could not be more delighted. Once you prove you paid your fee, I’ll be more than happy to give you an official welcome.”

Tsukishima reached for his purse. Sugawara’s men seized the guns at their belts and he stopped, fingers barely touching the metal clasp. “Easy,” he coolly said. “I’m just taking out my fee.”

Tsukishima moved slowly, using his thumb and forefinger to rifle through the contents and pull out a folded blue handkerchief. He handed it to Sugawara, who lifted one corner and gave an approving nod when he saw one clean ring and one bloodstained ring.

“Nekoma’s number one.” Sugawara gave a mock tut, allowing the shortest glimpse of his true nature hidden underneath. “What a pity.”

“Do you need more conclusive evidence?” Tsukishima asked.

“No, I trust your word.” Sugawara folded the rings back in and slipped the handkerchief into his breast pocket. “This is one of the most exorbitant fees I’ve had to set, but what else would we expect from Nekoma’s number two?”

“Steep prices come steep rewards,” Tsukishima replied.

“Then I’m thrilled you were more than willing to pay the price.” Sugawara turned to his man who arrived with two cocktails. He gave the first to Tsukishima and took the second for himself. “You will take number one by my side as you stipulated in our agreement. Welcome to Karasuno.”

Tsukishima smiled, and tilted his glass towards his new boss. “Thank you for having me.”

 _Clink_.

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to chicken-fetus on tumblr who inadvertently encouraged Kuroo's death.


End file.
